What a difference I feel from just last week. The choir I think is too much for me right now, but when I think of taking leave, there is nothing else. I’m accepting I will not get another job better than what I have. I’m accepting having no close relationships and being stuck in all the ways I am. And when hope that better change would eventually come along dies the way it has, I don’t want to go on.

My birthday is a month away. 25 on the 25th, and I thought for sure I’d be dead before I saw the day. I guess it would make sense though, to never develop more to my life — I was probably never meant to be here long enough to see that. I should have gotten rid of myself years ago before there was a chance to fool myself into believing this life could be recovered.

I feel repulsive. The self-punishment is never all it should be. Sometimes -I’d say most times- when you’ve fallen far enough behind, it’s best to stop the waste of energy on trying and let go. And in that case it seems silly to even consider what a “goodbye” would do or mean to anyone else.

There is always more to go wrong. This morning a back tooth chipped right off after I put some gum in my mouth. So unlike saving my latest paycheck as I’d planned, I’ll have to spend it on a filling or crown. I haven’t been to the dentist in over three years, btw. I don’t have dental insurance and never had the extra money to spend on those routine exams.

I intended to call my therapist to schedule something for next week, too. But I got around to it late and will have to wait. By then I expect to have given in to what I know won’t solve a thing, but will make me feel better in the moments as I wait. The pressure has been overwhelming and with no one to talk to for even just distraction has left me barely able to contain the emotion when it matters most: while at work and confronting others day to day. It’s either allow myself to shed the tears that well up at any moment they choose, or distract my self with pain of some sort.

What trouble would it be to anyone if I just weren’t here anymore? Others are all wrapped up in the lives of those who matter more to them, for which I have never been included. And I am indeed tired of thinking these thoughts. I am tired of fighting them.

Below is the last portion of a poem I wrote. I sang it with piano several weeks ago, trying to get my grip again and move on.

“The desperate moment we are given a taste… The beauty of that aged ache soullessness creates. A glimpse past the disadvantage of human eyes – Bridged finally within mind,

Punishment and promise defined.”

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So there is news. I gave my notice last Friday and am in the middle of my final week. Two months by anyone’s opinion is awful, but I gave it a shot. I’m not physically well enough to sustain much longer – full time this way is becoming intolerable – but I feel less self hatred this time around for choosing to part ways. There’s nothing I’m afraid of or particularly running from. And the pressure of others always in my head has disappeared now that the decision is made. The panic I felt about having to stay, having to make it work, or else I couldn’t live…it won’t do. Fitting into anything I’m clearly incompatible with is what has wasted the most of my time, on earth actually. My entire life, one big waste of worry and self inflicted hurts.

I don’t care what happens next. If I get my strength back maybe it will be enough to dream past all I thought I was supposed to do and be- let it go and never look toward that for meaning and worth ever again.

This song clip is the last one I’ve completed. The melody sort of popped into mind after I’d finished taking a long walk and I just wanted to get something down from it.

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I haven’t been doing very well. The worst of this depression is having my only bit of certainty be held in the belief I’m going to die soon. At some moments it scares me and at others I’m just relieved it means a conclusion to what I go through and do to myself. I know I’m with an illness that I can’t just think/pray my way out of and what’s scaring me most is realizing the rest of my years won’t be without it recurring again and again. I’m exhausted.

Messed up a little with the song below, but it was only a second take from weeks ago- a section from an old poem. No sense in taking anything I do seriously anymore. It’s all an empty effort for how far it’s gotten me or given. I’m tired for the time I cared.

Speak your heart.
Don’t leave the worst out – your hurt just for me,
The hate you mean.

I never needed you to lie. It rests at my foundation.
The sick of soul feeds from inside,
Scraping clean my humanness…

She is begging to die.

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Something I wrote days before deciding to leave the bakery.

I’ve eaten nothing for three days now. Still managed to do my routine exercising this morning, but definitely took it easy – I had no choice with the chest pain/short breath, but I felt better afterward at least. And I don’t feel like I have a choice but to keep myself empty until I have a reason not to be. There are no interviews, no plans to look forward to – just more nothing. A lack of will and lack of “life goals” that has no easy fix. I thought about contacting my doctor, but what can he do or anyone else? We discussed my taking a trip, but I’m in no condition to go anywhere by myself. And beside that, there will be the same emptiness to return home to. I’d rather not return at all.